Death of Disney One: Silence
by It'sTimeToDance
Summary: It was a silent night, and no one said a word about it. Charactor death, kind of drabbly. First in the 'Death of Disney' series.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N This was literally **_**just **_**on TV and Jim really really **_**really **_**irritated me. I just want to kill him off.**

**Again, really no cause and effect here. Just pointless violence and charactor death. Sorry if it itches you in the wrong butt crack, but you'll get over it.**

Scroop's claws wrapped around Jim Hawkin's neck, tossing him against the deck like an old rag doll. He made a distinctive _oof _as the air left his lungs, and hardly saw past the spots as he was slammed against the wood.

The claws came down, and Jim became so painfully detached that he stopped struggling under the monsterous grip and thought about other things. Scroop hissed things, idiotic little threats that he had probably repeated once and again in the time that Jim had been on the ship, he just couldn't remember it.

I don't think either of them noticed it when something stabbed Jim between the ribs, or when his blood sunk into the cracks of wood.

When he was done, he hissed a final warning to Jim Hawkins with the assumption that the boy would make it past morning, and left to the barracks, feeling pleased with himself.

And Jim Hawkins was left by himself in the corner of the bow of the ship The Legacy, in the confindes of space, lightyears apart from his planet, and alone. Completely alone.

He couldn't find anything in him that wanted to fight, or get up, or call for help, or even groan. He just lay exactly where he'd been left, unaware of anything except the strange darkness that had taken hold, and the one bit of light left in the corner of his eye. His arms were crooked in front of him, and he managed to lurch on his back, so that he was looking at the sky. He breathed out, couldn't breath back in, and then he was silent. The ship was silent. Everything was silent.

--

John Silver limped across the deck, mumbling to himself about incompetant scoudrels and such. He was to busy with these proceedings to hear the deafening silence that had wrapped around the ship like an old, uncomfortably stifling blanket. Nights were the worst when there was no technical atmosphere. The air felt to nonexcistent. Of course, it was nonexcistent.

As he turned, he saw a very familiar lump strewn to the side.

"Jimbo?" he whispered. The lump was still.

"Jimbo?" he said, louder. He limped over to the too-still lump. The face was familiar, ghastly white, and John Silver couldn't be sure whether it was a reflection of the moon or not.

The boy's blood was still, frozen in his veins. It was dry, matting his hair to his forehead and crusted brown down the side of his face. Jagged tears were at the sleeves of his jacket, revealing slices of skin, so disfigured it couldn't be called skin at all.

Even though he was very clearly dead. John Silver still trembled, calling over his shoulder for someone, anyone. He uselessly shook his limp shoulder, and the too-still lump became less and less of a lump.

Dr. Doppler was the first to come, grunting and grumbling about being woke at such an hour, and John Silver couldn't make himself care.

"What is so important that---" Doppler was cut short, and silence insued. Too much silence, thought Silver, for one night.

"Jim?" he almost squeaked, and Silver heard him step closer.

"Aye." said Silver, answering the question even though it weren't aimed towards him, nor, he had a feeling, anyone in particular.

"I'll get help!" he said, and he bagan to run a direction.

"No use," Silver grunted, hiding any cracks in his voice, "he's dead."

Doppler said nothing. Made noises, but said nothing.

"Are...you sure?" he whispered.

"Aye." Silver sighed, bowing his head.

"What happened." His voice was now barely above a whisper.

Silver knew. He knew just knew. He said nothing about it, though. "I don't know."

Neither said a word, "Oh dear, I have to tell his mother..."

Silver cringed.

"Get the captain." Silver grunted, not looking away.

Doppler's hurried footsteps faded.

Silver was alone, watching the too-still lump and the blood crusted on it's skin.

He thought about Scroop and his cursed temper, and he felt angry, but still did nothing. He made a calm, level headed decision that'd he'd have to ground the thing's head into the walls later in the day, but stayed were he was.

"Sorry, boy," he whispered, brushing a piece of hair from his face. His eyes stung.

It remained silent, as it had all night. Silent.


	2. Author's Note

**A/N Yo, I'm starting a series where I'll pretty much kill off a main charactor of every Disney Fandom I can think of. Jim Hawkins was first on the list.**

**Next...not sure...watch out....**


End file.
